There are few sights more stirring in Jewish life than the celebration of Sukkot in Jerusalem.
Tens of thousands gather at the Western Wall for Birkat Kohanim (the priestly blessing) with lulavim and etrogim in hand, their voices soaring heavenward together in prayer. Families stream to makeshift sukkot that dot balconies and courtyards across the country, their roofs covered with palm leaves and bamboo, their tables laden with food and festivity. It is, quite literally, a holiday of joy: “You shall rejoice on your festival” (Deuteronomy 16:14).
However, this year Sukkot arrives at a time when the Jewish state is once again beset by challenges and uncertainty.
As we sit in our fragile booths, open to the wind and rain, we cannot help but feel the resonance between the message of the holiday and the reality of our national situation.
Human fragility
The sukkah is truly a paradox. On the one hand, it is flimsy, temporary, hardly fit to withstand the elements. On the other, it is a mitzvah, imbued with holiness, and a place where the divine presence dwells. For seven days, Jews are commanded to leave the comfort of their permanent homes and reside in these delicate huts, to eat and drink and rejoice beneath their shade.
The message is stark and timeless: All human structures, no matter how solid they may appear, are ultimately temporary. Only God endures. The sukkah reminds us of the fragility of life and the futility of placing our faith solely in human power.
Is this not precisely Israel’s reality today? Militarily, we are strong; economically, we are thriving; diplomatically, we have American support. And yet, the horrific events of Oct. 7, 2023, reminded us in the most painful way imaginable how tenuous our sense of security truly is.
Divine protection
According to one explanation in the Talmud (Sukkah 11b), the sukkah is meant to recall Ananei Hakavod, the Clouds of Glory, with which God enveloped the Israelites during their wanderings in the desert. Surrounded by hostile nations, exposed to harsh conditions, the people of Israel were shielded not by fortresses of stone but by God’s loving embrace.
In our time, Israel, too, has been encircled by enemies who seek our destruction. Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and their patron in Tehran form a ring of hatred. And yet, somehow, Israel endures. We survive wars, boycotts, terrorist attacks, and international campaigns of delegitimization. The explanation cannot be found in Iron Domes or hi-tech defenses alone. It lies in the same truth that carried our ancestors through the wilderness: Divine protection, unseen yet unwavering.
This is not to dismiss the necessity of strength. The IDF is our shield, and our precious soldiers serve as our guardians. But behind them, above them, and beyond them stands the ultimate protector of Israel, “the Guardian of Israel who neither slumbers nor sleeps” (Psalms 121:4).
A sense of unity
A central custom of Sukkot is to welcome the ushpizin, the symbolic “guests” Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph, and David. Each night, a different biblical figure is invited into the sukkah, reminding us that we are part of a chain stretching back millennia. Their presence unites us across generations, binding us to a shared story and destiny.
How desperately Israel needs that sense of unity today. The divisions within our society – religious versus secular, Left versus Right, Jew versus Jew – have only deepened. Our enemies, of course, delight in these fissures, for they know that a divided Israel is a weaker Israel.
In this sense, Sukkot provides us with a timely and much-needed lesson. The lulav, etrog, hadassim, and aravot – four species of different shapes, scents, and qualities – must be bound together to fulfill the mitzvah. Separately, they are incomplete; only together do they form a proper set. So, too, with the Jewish people. Each sector may differ in emphasis, practice, or outlook. But bound together, united in purpose, we fulfill our role as God’s people.
We must be happy
In our liturgy, Sukkot is referred to as zman simchatenu, “the season of our joy.” Just days after the solemnity of Yom Kippur, we are commanded to rejoice. It is not a suggestion; it is an obligation.
This is perhaps the most counterintuitive as well as necessary lesson for Israel in this hour. Our enemies seek not only to harm us physically but to rob us of joy, to instill fear, despair, and terror. They want us huddled in anxiety, unable to celebrate life. By insisting on joy, by filling our Sukkot holiday with singing, laughter, and gratitude, we strike back at the forces of darkness. We declare that the Jewish spirit cannot and will not be broken.
As Israel confronts the uncertainty of the months ahead – whether in Gaza, in Lebanon, or in the halls of hostile international bodies – Sukkot beckons us to return to first principles. Security cannot come from walls alone, whether of concrete or of diplomacy. It comes from faith, from unity, and from placing our destiny in the hands of the God of Israel.
In the sukkah, we sit beneath the open sky, exposed yet embraced, vulnerable yet protected. So, too, with the State of Israel: fragile, yes, but fortified by eternity. The sukkah may be temporary, but the covenant it represents is everlasting.
This Sukkot, as uncertainties abound, let us not lose sight of this fundamental truth. Let us rejoice in the sukkah as a defiant affirmation of faith. For the joy of Sukkot is not a sign of naivete; it is a declaration that Israel’s story will end not in fear but ultimately in redemption. ■
The writer served as deputy communications director under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.